Thank you so much to @_eclipse_oo on Instagram for the lovely art of Izumina, I'll be posting the picture in the banner along with a sketch they sent me on my Instagram @snowy_writes28 (same as Wattpad). Be sure to give them a follow and send me some fanart of your own to be featured in future chapters with credit.
Trigger Warning: mental distress and sensitive topic areas. This chapter will be a bit more intense than others so if you're easily triggered please proceed with caution and read at your own discretion.
If you chose to skip this chapter there is an author's note at the bottom which I hope you'll read. That being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter!
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To lose someone you love is one of the most painful feelings in existence. It hits you like a bus: suddenly, violently, even if you're expecting it.
Losing yourself is the opposite.
It creeps up on you like a fog. You can't see it until you're surrounded, then once you've realized your predicament, it's already too late to go back to who you used to be.
The pain is reversed as well.
When someone dies you feel it. It lasts a while but over the years it'll fade into a cold numbness. Fully forgoing the hurt of it all is unfathomable but you'll learn to cope and manage.
You'll survive.
When you lose yourself you may not notice right away. It may feel like you've been living a bad dream for too long, that it was all just the circumstances. But as time goes on, and reality sets in, that numbness you've been feeling for so long begins to take shape. It becomes a darkness that can swallow you whole. It becomes impossible to deal with.
There's no hope if you lose yourself.
🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀
The bus ride back had been hectic and full of liveliness; the conversations eventually steering away from Izumina's book of portraits and back to the events at the U.S.J. With the sketchbook back in her possession, Izumina ran through all the things she'd written down for herself in her head.
League of Villains... Nomu... King... Princess...
If she didn't get some answers soon she worried she never would. She'd have to talk it over with Midoriya at some point. She would've liked to talk it over with Fleur...
By the time the bus rolled through the gates of U.A. the sun was already beginning to set. The class was escorted back to their homeroom and told to wait around until it was safe to leave the school premises.
Excusing herself from her classmates, Izumina left the class and made her way down the hall. She passed the changerooms, eyeing them despondently before entering the women's bathroom. She paused for a moment, checking the stalls for any feet or signs of breathing as she locked the door behind her. She dropped the briefcase for her hero costume and backpack at her feet. Then, ripping the mask off her face she let it fall to the floor.
The door of the school bathroom had a decorative metal panel across its middle. Feeling flushed, Izumina pressed her forehead to it and closed her eyes. Trying to concentrate on its cool surface.
"Calm down," she muttered to herself between shaky breaths. "It's cool... You're cool... just breathe... Breathe... Breathe goddam!"
Gritting her teeth, Izumina balled her hand into a fist and swiftly pounded the door with its side. She felt her breathing hitch as she fell to her knees, her head still against the door and fist trailing above her. Her bangs were messier than usual and pressed down against her face, getting in her eyes. She shoved her forehead harder against the door as if ordering it to grant her stability. Her hand shook as she slowly brought it down to her chest.
Forcing herself to look down, Izumina eye's fixated on her hand. It was the same as always. Its creases and slender fingers unchanged. But still... she felt dirty. She swore she could see red, in the lines and under her nails. Dripping slowly down her wrist and forearm.
Grabbing the door handle, Izumina hoisted herself up. Her knees trembled slightly as she did so. She turned and made a frantic beeline towards the sinks.
Slapping the handle, more so than turning it, water spewed from the faucet and drenched her hands. Water spilled over the sink's bowl and counter, soaking her top. She paid it no mind as she leaned over, reaching for the soap dispenser.
It felt like it was in her, under her skin. Their blood. Fleur's blood. Her mother's blood. So much soot and dirt... She didn't want any of it.
The water wasn't hot enough. It needed to burn. Singe the filth beneath her skin. It needed to reach her veins, down to her bones.
It needed to hurt.
She struck the faucet and turned the handle further, as hot as it could go. Her skin became red, matching the spot on her forehead she'd shoved against the door. Then it became raw. It felt better.
Izumina reached for the soap and pumped until its spuds filled her palms and dripped down her arm. She rinsed, scrubbed, and scratched at her skin, leaving tiny cuts. The soap entered the wounds and stung with the heat of the water. She felt clean.
As though what she was doing finally hit her she flinched away from the water, holding her hands to her chest. The water kept running, clear as it washed the remaining soap down the drain. Izumina's breathing was uneasy as she realized the mess she'd made. The countertop was flooded, soap dripped down the wall, and the mirror was covered in splatter.
Her eyes shakily locked with her reflection, her fear and guilt making her unrecognizable. As if she were a different person. As if she weren't a person at all.
She slowed her breathing, balling her hands into fists once more and digging her nails into her palms to ground herself. She watched as the red mark on her forehead faded, lavender particles danced around her temple and hands. She ripped her gaze away, unable to look at herself anymore, and cussed. "Merde..."
It didn't take long to clean up her mess. Grabbing paper towel from the nearby dispenser, Izumina wiped down the counters and mirror. When she was done, she opened her bag and changed back into her normal uniform. Folding her damp hero suit before placing it in her briefcase, Izumina turned to retrieve her mask from the floor. She sighed as she placed it into the case, eyeing the bloodstains and tears in her costume as she did so. She ran a hand over Fleur's cape, grateful it hadn't been damaged like everything else. Whichever support student was tasked with cleaning and repairing her suit would be getting the short end of the stick. She bid them a silent apology as she closed the briefcase.
Pausing for one last look in the mirror, straightening out her hair and clothes the best she could, Izumina unlocked the door and headed to the nurse's office.
She took a detour, stopping briefly at class 1-A to drop off her hero costume. She bid goodbye to her classmates as they filed through the door, finally able to go home.
Uraraka waved to her as she and Iida passed. "We'll be waiting for you and Deku outside. Come meet us by the front stairs once you're done with Recovery Girl."
Forcing a smile, Izumina waved back. "Okay, we'll see you out there." Her hands were still shaking a bit, but not enough for it to be obvious. Her skin had gone back to its usual colour and her cuts had already closed. She paid it no heed, pushing the memory to the back of her mind.
When she arrived at Recovery Girl's office she noticed a figure in the doorway. He wore a long brown coat and matching hat. Izumina recognized him as the officer who'd spoken to the class back at the U.S.J.
"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting," Izumina spoke, stopping in the doorway and bowing to the officer.
"Not at all," the man stated as he removed his hat and gestured for her to enter the room.
"Young, Yūsha," All Might greeted as Izumina stepped through the doorway. His torso was covered in bandages and his eyes looked tired. In the bed next to him was Midoriya, his hand and forearm were bandaged as well. "This is Naomasa Tsukauchi, my best friend in the force. Both of you, come on in."
"What's with that introduction," Tsukauchi questioned as he too entered the room, closing the door behind him.
"It's nice to meet you," Izumina said as she turned to shake the man's hand.
"Pleasure's all mine," Tsukauchi stated, accepting her hand.
Izumina smiled politely before turning her attention to All Might. "How are you feeling? You were in your muscle form for a long time, I hope you didn't overexert yourself too much." She walked to his bedside.
"I'll be fine. I think I might've shortened my time limit again, but it can't be helped. I just hope I have at least an hour left."
Izumina nodded in understanding, her eyes trailing down his bandaged figure to where the wound on his stomach was. "I see. I'm sorry I wasn't able to help more."
"Nonsense, you helped plenty," All Might reassured, placing his hand on her head and ruffling her hair. "You students fought and risked your lives just as much as us teachers did. Don't be so hard on yourself."
Izumina forced a smile, but she didn't really feel it. As much as she appreciated All Might's words, some part of her just couldn't bring herself to believe them.
"I'll be around for a few days for questioning," Tsukauchi cut in. "I hate to cut to the chase, All Might, but I need you to give me the details about the villain now. You kids are free to leave if you want. The rest of your class has already gone home."
"Uraraka and Iida are outside waiting for us so we'll get out of your hair," Izumina spoke as Midoriya sat up in bed. She walked around All Might's bed to help Midoriya up. He leaned on her for a moment as she helped him get his injured hand through his backpack strap.
"Thank you," Tsukauchi said as he pulled a notepad out of his pocket.
"Before I go, though," Izumina piped, "The League of Villains kept mentioning someone named King. I don't think he was there today so he must be out there somewhere. I'm not sure, everything they were saying was so confusing, but it was really unsettling."
Tsukauchi nodded, jotting a note for himself as he did so. "Thanks, I'll keep this in mind. We can talk about it more when we get around to questioning the students. For now, though, I want you both to take some time for yourselves and rest. You had a very stressful day, I don't want to put any more on your plates by talking about this so soon after. Take some time to process it all."
Midoriya smiled kindly as he and Izumina stepped towards the door. "Thank you, Detective Tsukauchi. We'll be sure to do that. Right, Izumi," he nudged her shoulder, noticing her pensive expression.
"Yeah," Izumina mumbled, her thoughts in disarray. "Thanks again. We'll see you later, All Might."
All Might waved. "Get home safe, you two. It's dark out so be careful."
"We will," Midoriya stated.
"I'd say see you soon but hopefully that won't happen," Recovery Girl joked, poking fun at Izuku's accident-proneness.
Izumina smiled and nodded, but avoided eye contact with Recover Girl as she stepped out of the office. Midoriya trailed behind her, waving over his shoulder before closing the door. Once they were out of earshot he turned to her and gave her a concerned look.
"What's up," Izumina asked, her eyebrow raised in question as they walked towards the front entrance.
Midoriya scratched at his bandaged hand absentmindedly. "You look like something's bugging you."
"Well yeah," Izumina responded. "We were attacked by villains, who got away because of that warp guy, Kurogiri, that they had with them. Why wouldn't I be bugged?"
Midoriya eyed her skeptically. "It's more than that."
Izumina shrugged, turning her head away from him.
"Hey," Midoriya stopped walking and grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him. "I know you said you just wanted a quiet day this morning. Today was anything but quiet."
Izumina took a breath. The train ride from that morning felt like it had been a lifetime ago. "It is what it is."
Midoriya tightened his grip causing Izumina to flinch. A year ago, if he'd grabbed her by the arm she barely would've felt it. He'd gotten a lot stronger. "Oh, sorry," he muttered, loosening his grip. "I guess I don't know my own strength..."
Izumina shrugged. "It's fine."
"Look, all I'm saying is the past few days have been hard. Plus you were acting out of it at the U.S.J. You're mourning Fleur-de-Lis, and you thought you saw your mom. On top of it all, you took on that Nomu by yourself like it was nothing."
Izumina's looked downcast, her eyes fixating on her shoes. "...I guess."
"You're incredible, Izumi."
"Says you," Izumina scoffed. Midoriya gave her one of his signature All Might smiles and she couldn't help but chuckle. She pulled him close to ruffle his hair. "Thanks," she said, her voice soft as she hooked an arm over his shoulder. "I'm sorry I've been out of it. You're right, a lot's happened and my mind is all over the place. I know you're worried about me. I appreciate it."
"What are friends for?"
Izumina smiled half-heartedly as they started walking again. "Could you stop breaking your bones though? Seriously, you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days. If a villain doesn't take me out, you sure as hell will."
Midoriya laughed awkwardly. "I mean... well, you know, it's not like I try to."
"Mhmm," Izumina hummed, mustering as much enthusiasm in her voice as she could after the day she'd had.
"Hey," Midoriya exclaimed defensively as Izumina held the front door of the school open for him. "You know I don't do it on purpose! Why would I willingly do that to myself hmm? I'm not that much of a masochist."
Izumina chuckled, but it sounded hollow. "Oh, Izu, if only you knew how wrong that'd sound if you said it in Canada. I know in Japan it's normal to use it to describe your personality, but please don't call yourself that. It has a much different meaning than what you're thinking."
Midoriya shrugged, looking confused as they approached Uraraka and Iida on the steps. "If you say so."
Midoriya and Izumina waved to their friends before setting off to the train station. Uraraka, Iida and Midoriya made conversation as Izumina listened intently to them. She was thankful for Uraraka's energy, which made up for what she lacked. She wasn't sure if they recalled her telling them about Fleur at lunch, but whatever the reason they seemed to lay off her. They didn't question her or force her to talk. For that she was grateful.
When they got to the train station they exchanged farewells and goodnights. Uraraka gave Izumina a hug before running to her platform. Iida, in turn, put a hand on her shoulder before bidding her and Midoriya adieu.
Without a word, Midoriya led Izumina to their train. They found seats and sat in comfortable silence as they rattled across the tracks. Izumina stared blankly out the windows, not fully seeing the world beyond the glass. She held her hand with her other and itched at her wrist with her thumb. A nervous habit, she'd had for as long as she could remember.
When the train came to a stop at their station, Midoriya had to tap Izumina's shoulder to get her attention. Izumina blinked, as though she were only just remembering he was there, before smiling weakly and trailing behind him. She followed him out of the train and down the narrow pathway of the terminal. He didn't make her talk, as she knew she'd have to soon...
"It's gotten so dark," Midoriya noted as he stared up at the moon. He and Izumina were nearly home at that point. Izumina allowed herself a moment of peace as she glanced past the dim lighting of the street lamps to the heavens above. The moon and stars were especially bright that night. Izumina wondered if it was a sign. Fleur had always loved the nighttime...
"I don't mind the dark," Izumina responded as she and Midoriya turned the corner and arrived at his apartment complex. "Goodnight, Izuku. Say hi to your mom for me, alright?"
"Will do," Midoriya stated, pulling his bag off his back and rummaging for his keys. "Take care of yourself. Call me if you need me. I'm always right across the street."
Izumina smiled and thanked Midoriya before setting back down the pathway. She could've teleported home. Straight to her room, where her father wouldn't question her. But that would be cowardly, and truth be told, she didn't have the energy to use her quirk.
She walked along the sidewalk, down towards the road. She watched her feet, counting the steps between each new tile. She crossed and strode from the base of her driveway up to her porch. Instead of pulling out her keys when she got to her door, she paused.
The lights were on inside. She could see them streaming through the windows, through the closed blinds, illuminating the swing. Her head hung low, remembering the events of the day. Remembering when she'd left this place with her mother. Remembering when Fleur and Charles had brought her back.
Her lip trembled as she tried to muster the courage to go inside. This was her home. It had always been her home. Even in Quebec, she couldn't ignore the fact that this was what she'd come back to. What she couldn't leave behind. But going in now would mean confronting her fears. Confronting her past. Doing the one thing she'd sworn not to do.
Betraying her mother.
With a final breath, Izumina reached into her pocket to grab her key. As she slid it into the lock, the door swung open from the inside.
"Zumi! Oh thank god you're home," Nakiro breathed, throwing his arms around her. Izumina tensed but made no move to push him away, but rather, allowed herself to fall slack in his hold. "The school called. They said there'd been an incident. I was so worried. Those damn teachers... I never would've let my little girl be hurt. What happened? Are you alright?"
Izumina nodded hesitantly.
Nakiro pulled her through the door, shutting it behind them before embracing her once more. "Where were you hurt? Who hurt you?"
"I... my head–" Izumina tried to explain, her words catching in her throat. "--back"
"It's only the beginning of the school year! Dammit, those idiots should know better! School trip... Imbeciles! Are they incapable of doing their jobs!" Nakiro was on a rant, pulling away so he could examine Izumina's face. He cupped her cheeks, turning her head rather forcefully as he pushed the hair off her forehead.
Izumina scrunched up her face, her father continuing to prod her for signs of injury. He spun her around, removing the backpack from her shoulders before she could do so herself. He placed it down on the shoe bench, rambling incoherently to himself as he did so. Anger and frustration were evident in his tone as he lightly rubbed the spot on Izumina's back where she'd been struck. Right between her shoulder blades.
Spinning Izumina around once more, Nakiro sighed, brushing her hair behind her ear and embraced her again. Izumina knew he'd been affectionate in her childhood. Hugs were never really uncommon even over the past few years. But this felt different. For once he felt like an actual doting parent.
Maybe this was the right thing to do.
Raising her arms, Izumina hesitantly hugged her father back. It felt foreign. Like hugging a stranger. It took all the air in her lungs to bring herself to speak. "Father..."
Nakiro pulled away to look at her face, waiting for her to continue.
Izumina's throat constricted, siphoning her airway. Urging, begging her to stop. To heed her mother's words. To remain silent.
But silence never got anyone anywhere. All it could do was keep her tethered and chained to the past. To a memory she wasn't even old enough to make sense of.
"We– we need to talk..."
For a moment his expression was incomprehensible. Then, his eyes softened. "It's been so long. I–" Nakiro ran a hand through his graying brown hair. "I've missed your voice. One or two words isn't enough, but I didn't want to push you... I only wish the circumstances were better."
Izumina waited, staring blankly at her father as his mind wandered. "The people... the ones who attacked me today, they– they seemed to know me. I'm worried they may know you too." Now that she'd brought herself to say it, what she'd been worrying about, she didn't know what else to do.
Nakiro breathed, processing it all. "Why don't you come in? Talk in the living room? No point in us standing in the foyer all evening. You wait for me on the couch and I'll make us some tea, okay?"
Izumina opened her mouth to agree but found herself nodding instead. She internally cursed herself for being so meek. Old habits really did die hard.
Her father disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Izumina to her own devices. Where would she even start? She wondered. If villains knew who she was, there was a possibility they could come after her father. That, or they were already plotting to do so. Even if she'd promised her mother, if not speaking meant he could be hurt, Izumina wasn't willing to take any risks.
For now, this was the best she could do. Any more and she worried she might break. And if she broke, what would happen then? There'd be nothing left.
All she could do was take things step by step. One thing at a time. Every breath, every second. Talk it all through.
Izumina opened her bag and removed her sketchbook, flipping to the page she'd written the notes on as she walked to the living room. She combed a hand through her hair, pushing her bangs off her face as she exhaled. How to start this conversation...
She sat on the couch, laying her notes in her lap. Scratching at her wrist once more, digging the edge of her nail into her skin, Izumina's thoughts swirled. King, Doctor, League... her eyes skimmed each letter, each word she'd already memorized. How to make sense of it all well enough to explain it to someone else.
Looking down at her arm, Izumina sighed to herself upon seeing the red lines she'd left, etched with a pen of her own design. Pulling her sleeve down and closing her eyes, she found a twisted sense of comfort in her ability to ground herself. Each line made her mind clearer, each overlap they made causing her anxiety to settle. It was a bad habit, and yet, here she was, grounded, put together. She'd done that herself.
Everybody has their own ways of coping. At times like these, you have to rely on whatever works.
Izumina reread her notes a few more times until her father returned with two mugs in hand. He set the tea down on the coffee table and pushed his reading glasses up as he took a seat next to her on the couch.
She couldn't figure it out, why his close proximity unnerved her. They'd just hugged in the foyer. What'd changed? Perhaps being open with her father would take some getting used to. Izumina eyed the side of his glasses, their orange frames the only thing unorthodox she'd ever seen him wear. Heck, now that she thought about it, she couldn't recall a time he'd worn his glasses for anything other than work. When he'd sit over a stack of papers furiously reading with a forearm obscuring the words on the pages. Maybe this was his way of showing Izumina she had his undivided attention.
Feeling her jaw clench, Izumina breathed deeply. "Father–"
"Drink first," he cut her off, "I don't want you to strain yourself."
Smiling slightly, Izumina nodded and took a sip. Her face scrunched as the liquid hit her tongue.
"Red rose. It shouldn't be too hot, I let it sit for a while. Made it with milk and sugar too, just the way you like it."
Izumina forced herself to swallow the mouthful she'd taken. Its salty taste was unexpected, to say the least. She regretted taking such a large swig. He must've mixed up the sugar and salt, she rationalized.
"Do you not like it," Nakiro questioned, noticing her expression. "I thought you liked your tea that way. Would you like me to make you something else instead? Herbal? Or maybe something caffeinated? Would you prefer coffee?"
Holding up a hand, Izumina shook her head 'no'. She didn't want her father to feel bad. His heart was in the right place. At least he was trying. She took another large gulp for good measure.
Nakiro smiled, then his eyes fell to her sketchbook. "What's this?"
"Notes... from today..." Izumina explained before downing the rest of her tea out of habit. She internally scolded herself for using the drink as a crutch and shook her head at her foolish action.
Taking the empty mug from her hand, Nakiro placed it down on the coffee table. Then he gently removed the sketchbook from her lap, holding it up so he could read what she'd written.
KING → No hit list
Princess?
League of Villains: Shigaraki: Hands (Quirk: destruction? flesh?), Kurogiri: Fog (Quirk: portals? teleportation?), DOCTOR?
NOMU → multiple quirks (shock absorption, regeneration, strength) → modified → efficient → mute?
Saw Mom?
"Wait," Izumina thought as Nakiro took her nearly illegible scrawlings with a phlegmatic expression. "Isn't saltwater bad to ingest? Can you die from it? No that's an overreaction, it'd take more than a spoonful of salt in warm water to kill someone. I have my healing too, so I should be fine, right? Does my healing even work internally? It'd have to right? Merde, I'm too tired for this..."
"So..." Nakiro ventured, "This is what happened today?"
Izumina nodded.
"And these names, are the people who attacked you?" Nakiro's question came out as more of a statement, but nevertheless, Izumina nodded again.
"They said things... Things that didn't make sense..." She tried to explain.
"Hence, the question marks. Yeah?"
Izumina nodded a third time.
Nakiro brought his hand to the sketchbook and ran his fingertips along the page as if it were as delicate as a porcelain cup. "And... you saw Miyu– your mother?"
"I couldn't have," Izumina stuttered, snatching the book back into her possession. "A hallucination... or– or maybe the adrenaline!" Her eyes were wild as they met her father's, her breath hitched as she realized she was getting worked up over nothing. "I couldn't have."
Silence. Her shoulders slumped as she waited for her heartbeat to settle. She covered her face, leaning with her elbows on the sketchbook in her lap. "Sorry... I shouldn't have yelled."
After a moment, Nakiro spoke. "I see her too sometimes..."
Splaying her fingers, just enough so she could see him again, Izumina stared at her father in disbelief. He didn't meet her eyes. In fact, he wasn't even looking at her. Nakiro's gaze was fixated firmly on the empty space before him, as if maybe he could see her, even now.
"Did your mother ever show you her quirk? Before you came back to me?"
Nakiro never mentioned the time before, when Miyuna left him, and when Izumina pretended he didn't exist. He acted as if it never happened. Hoped that maybe, if he didn't think about it, it wouldn't matter.
Izumina shook her head as if to say 'no' and Nakiro chuckled. "Oh, you should've seen her. It was beautiful. She was beautiful."
"I never even knew she had a quirk," Izumina confessed. Whenever she'd asked her mother about her quirk, Miyuna had always smiled and patted her head before changing the topic. Thinking back on it, Izumina wondered why that was. To spare her feelings? Keep her from feeling like a freak, back when she thought she was quirkless?
"She called it Hydro. It was more than any liquid manipulation quirk, it was water in its purest form. Pulled from the hydrogen and oxygen atoms in the air, she made it rain like it was nobody's business. Ruined a few of our date plans too, so we'd have to stay in and watch romcoms. Those were the days." Nakiro chuckled.
Izumina felt a serenity fall over her. "I saw her in the water today."
"Did you now," Nakiro spoke, his voice airy. "Sometimes I see her getting ready at the vanity in the bathroom. Tying her hair in that ponytail." He turned and brushed the hair out of Izumina's face. "The way you do."
Izumina smiled, and for once it didn't feel forced.
"I'm sorry..." Her gaze fell downcast as she spoke.
Nakiro looked taken aback. "Heavens, why do you say that?!"
"I was childish... and petty." She stroked the base of her neck as if coaxing herself to continue. "I should've talked to you sooner."
Sighing, Nakiro patted her back. "It's alright. I get it. You'd been through a lot, and needed time to readjust. I'm just glad we're talking now."
Izumina nodded her head and looked down at her notes. "Father, I'm worried." It was time to get down to business.
Nakiro inhaled sharply, his shoulders stiffening ever so slightly. He waited for her to continue, but when she didn't he took it upon himself to get them started. "What do you make of it all?"
"They knew me... or at least, thought I was someone else." Izumina rubbed the tiredness from her eyes. "They could be targeting you."
"Don't worry about that," Nakiro spoke, rather sure of himself. "I'm a scientist. They wouldn't be targeting someone like me."
"Right..." Izumina muttered, trying to find another explanation for how they could know her. "It must be me then."
"Why do you say that?"
Izumina sighed as a yawn overtook her. She must've been more drained from the day than she'd thought. "My quirk... Quirks... I have more than one."
Nakiro hummed. "Your doctor told me you were a late bloomer, your quirk didn't manifest until you were nine."
Nodding, Izumina changed the topic. "They kept mentioning a Doctor... He must be someone else in the League."
"How's your control of your other quirks?"
"Hm? Oh, it's fine, it's not important," she brushed him off. "The League of Villains, they're dangerous. This Doctor must be dangerous too. I need to make sure you're not in danger because of me. How'd they find out about me though...?" She pressed a hand to her temple as she pondered to herself.
"You said you saw your mother in the water, did her quirk pass onto you?"
Izumina hadn't thought of it. "Uh– maybe? Doesn't explain the healing, or other elemental stuff though." Her head was throbbing. To say she felt like crap would be an understatement. It hurt to think about everything.
"You know, your teleportation is probably a variation of my quirk, Transport. With a little bit of your mother's quirk as well." Nakiro pointed to the mug on the table and made it disappear. "I can make things vanish," the mug suddenly reappeared in his hand, "and reappear at will. I can even store them in a little pocket of space for safekeeping." The mug disappeared again, rematerializing on the table a few seconds later. "I believe, your teleportation involves your mother's ability to pull atoms. You seem to break down your body and transfer your atoms to a place you've been before by jumping through an invisible pocket of space. This gives your quirk the illusion of appearing and disappearing, just like mine."
Izumina was stunned. "I– That smakes a lot of mense... I mean," she shook her head, "Wow, I'm out of it right now. This headache is killing me."
"Why don't you rest your eyes," Nakiro suggested.
"Yeah..." Izumina closed her eyes and laid her head against the back of the couch. Her head throbbed as she collected her thoughts. Everything was feeling muddled. "Oh, right... the league is an underground organization, the ones who attacked us today." She kept her eyes closed as she spoke, reiterating the facts more for herself than her father. "The Doctor wasn't there but they had lots of backup."
"Mhmm," Nakiro hummed.
"And also... there was someone else they mentioned."
"And who was that," Nakiro prompted, his voice soft and laid back.
"... his name was King... or maybe Duke, I think? I can't actually remember..."
"That's alright," Nakiro said, removing the sketchbook from Izumina's lap and placing it on the table. "We can talk about it more tomorrow." Taking the blanket they always kept folded on the side chair, Nakiro lay it over Izumina's lap, tucking her in.
"No..." Izumina spoke groggily, still not opening her eyes. "This is important. There was a boy too."
"Was there?" Nakiro spoke as a parent would if their child were telling them stories of an imaginary friend. Amused, but not interested.
"He had red hair. He stopped the other one... the lava-metal guy, who hit me."
"Lava-metal guy," Nakiro repeated as if to himself. "Okay."
"I left him in the rocks... he protected me," Izumina yawned, "and told me about the list... the no-hit one... I hope he's okay..."
"Even though he's a villain," Nakiro questioned.
"He didn't seem that bad. More like a lost soul."
She couldn't see him, but she was sure her father was smiling. "You're a kind soul. That's why if anyone's worthy of multiple quirks, it's you."
Izumina smiled, but couldn't bring herself to say anymore. She felt her father pull the blanket up to her shoulders and kiss her temple. "We'll talk about this more tomorrow. Goodnight, Princess."
'Princess'
Like a windup key on the back of a music box, the cogs in Izumina's head began to turn. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing a world of blurred figures and unrefined lines. Everything in her body screamed at her to sleep, to close her eyes once more, but she'd heard that word clear as day. "What... did you just say?"
"Get some sleep, sweetie. You're exhausted," Nakiro spoke as he patted her shoulder.
Izumina shrugged him off as she sat up. Immediately getting a head rush, coloured specks of red and green danced across her already fuzzy vision. "No, I... can't." She made to stand but fumbled. Her father grabbed her arm to help steady her.
"You don't look so well. Let me help you lie down," Nakiro coaxed, urging alongside her pounding headache.
"Why did you call me that," Izumina demanded, struggling to her feet.
"You're confused, Zumi. Some rest will clear your head." Nakiro was standing now too.
"How... how d'ya know they called me'tat?" Izumina held the arm of the couch with one hand and her temple with the other. She was slurring her speech and her vision was hazy. Her knees felt like they could buckle at any moment. 'What's happening to me?'
"Did you overuse your quirk today? Your face is burning up." Nakiro's hand was on her forehead, obscuring her view of his face.
Izumina backed away. "Who..."
"Izumina," her father exclaimed as her heel hit the coffee table. She fell hard, crashing with the full force of her weight. The table snapped, falling in on itself, leaving her in a heap of splintering wood.
Shifting, Izumina felt warmth spread over and down her side, dripping onto the floor.
"Are you alright?" Nakiro was kneeling now, tugging at Izumina's arm to help her up.
"Who exactly're you?" Izumina withdrew her arm, feeling around the broken table to get her bearings. Her mind was hazy. She couldn't concentrate. Everything was spinning.
"It's me. What kind of silly question is that? Let's get you cleaned up."
Izumina shrunk from him, feeling around for something, a piece of wood large enough for her to defend herself with. She gripped the side of the table, cutting her hand as she felt around its sharp edge for a piece to break off. Her hand slipped under the table, into the drawer that had been empty since before she'd moved. She felt a grove, then something like a switch that flicked as her hand brushed over it.
A gear could've turned, a mechanism of some sort could've engaged, but Izumina could hardly hear anything other than her heartbeat pulsating in her ears. She was slipping in and out of consciousness.
Finally finding a suitable piece of wood, Izumina raised her fist.
"Come now, Zumi, put that down," Nakiro stated, prying the wood from her weak grip like it was nothing. Izumina could hardly make out his figure, but she could've sworn he'd glanced over his shoulder. "You'll hurt yourself."
Following Nakiro's glance, Izumina's eyes fell on the grandfather clock that stood in the corner of the room. Its frontal frame hung open like a door on rickety hinges. Izumina had always thought those hinges were just for opening the lower door, in case the pendulum needed fixing. Had the clock always been able to open like that?
Izumina's head lobbed as the corners of her vision faded. Her headache was pounding and her focus was wavering. Her mind betrayed her as her thoughts jumbled together. It felt like she was trying to form a picture with pieces from several different puzzles.
"You're King... s'you."
Nakiro exhaled as he hefted Izumina back onto the couch. She was too tired to fight as he embraced her. "I did it for you, Princess. For us! I promise, it'll all make sense soon. Just wait."
Izumina opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Her head was heavy against her father's shoulder and her adrenaline had run out.
"Forgive me."
It was too fast to register, the blow to her neck. The side of Nakiro's hand struck her with frightening precision. Izumina felt herself fall limp, and then,
The world faded to black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note (Please Read):
Sorry for the delay on this chapter! School's getting a bit hectic so it's been getting harder and harder finding time to write. This chapter was initially going to be one of two originals that take place in the week between the U.S.J and Sport's Festival Arcs in the show (I'm trying to stick to the chronological timeline of the anime/manga as best I can). After writing 18 pages for 'Disillusionment' though I decided to cut some stuff and make it a three-parter. This way, hopefully, I'll be able to get out more chapters in less time and won't feel like I'm rushing through the long-awaited reveal.
This story has been intricate from the start with lots of sensitive subject matter, so I'm trying my best to handle it as delicately as possible. I took a lot of time researching for this chapter and contemplated how I should word the trigger warning. I wanted to avoid spoiling anything and allow readers to experience the events of the chapter without any hints, but I also want this story to be a safe place, where people don't have to worry about reliving any trauma they may have. To clarify, the story is only going to get worse from here and the subject matter covered in this chapter will be a reoccurring part of the plot. If this chapter was a bit much for you please proceed with your mental wellbeing in mind.
Please let me know in the comments if you would like me to post a summary of this chapter at the beginning of the next. I will always be posting disclaimers and trigger warnings to avoid catching people off guard, so rest assured if you wish to continue supporting me and reading this story. As always, let me know if you have any feedback or suggestions. I've already started working on Chapter 40 so my goal is to update again soon (hopefully before the end of March). Stay tuned and thank you for 21k+ reads!
~ Snowy ❄️